Hidden Wrist Blade Novels & Stories

I fought the urge to grab his hands. Instead, I used my right hand to pull the knife from my pocket, slashing hard at the artery on his wrist! My movements were smooth and quick, almost like I had done this before. Reflexes like that made me question who I truly was. He screamed and let go, staring at his wounded hand, but he couldn't stop the bleeding no matter what he did. I wiped the blade clean. As expected of the knife the housekeeper had used for decapitating those young women. It was razor-sharp indeed.

The function of it is to supply blood to the elbow joint, lateral forearm muscles, radial nerve, carpal bones and joints, thumb, and lateral side of the index finger. I took a deep breath before aiming the sharp blade on my wrist where the radial artery was located. The steel, now warmed from my hesitant and fearful touch pressed a single corner against my flesh, the natural flexibility of my flesh giving in slightly against the unwavering corner, but elasticity pushed back against the steel as well. The edge was so perfectly sharp that as the flesh pushed against it, the flesh spread apart allowing the warm metal to lick its first drops of blood. Vibrant trickles of crimson started to flow

He drops the hood of his cloak, pushes wet strands of dark hair back from his eyes, silver eyes taking in every nook and cranny of the space. I turn to go inside further, when something tugs on my sleeve. My eyes snap to Zen. He’s looking at my hand instead. Something cold presses to my palm. A metal sheath comes in view, smaller than my hand. A blade that can be easily concealed. I give his hand a squeeze, the sheath a barrier between our palms. Then I let go, and turn around.

Alpha Blade POV My eyes went to the wrist watch on my hand and I couldn’t help but notice that Emily was forty minutes late. A pint of beer was dropped on my table and when I looked up, my eyes met the stern eyes of the old lady that owned the coffee shop. “You shouldn’t have come here, Blade.” She said. “It’s too risky.”

She looked back. The twelve were still there. Molten at the front. His chest was bandaged now. White gauze with red seeping through at the edges. Blade's right arm hung in a sling. His fingers were trembling. Abyss's wrist was wrapped in cloth. He braced himself against the wall with his left hand. The others were there too.

As he raised his right hand, he suddenly whipped out a butterfly knife with a sharp blade, stabbing it at Elio's chest. Only a truly ruthless character would pull out a deadly weapon without hesitation. It was not an ordinary switchblade, either, but a butterfly knife that required more skill to handle. "Ah!" A woman screamed involuntarily when she saw the weapon. The scene immediately erupted into chaos. Still, there was no way Elio would be injured by an amateur like that. A chill flashed across his eye, and his hands moved like lightning. With a single grab and twist, he dislocated Dwayne's wrist and rendered him helpless.

One went for his legs, one for his chest, and the third for his head. Rhys was a whirlwind of black fur and iron, but he couldn't cover every angle. I saw the third man pull a hidden wrist-launcher, a trio of poisoned needles aimed at Rhys’s exposed neck. "Rhys, down!" I screamed. I didn't wait to see if he heard me. I threw my secondary knife—a small, balanced throwing blade—with every ounce of strength I had. The steel whistled through the air, catching the attacker in the wrist just as he fired. The needles flew wide, hissing into the snow.

But I was wrong; he has two small blades that are attached to his hands by a leather strap. He’s feinting left and right so fast that it’s hard for me to keep up. The soldier is clearly outmatched. With the flick of the wrist, Zarius' soldier throws his blade into the soldier's chest. The blade misses his heart and gives the soldier enough fury to slice opponents right arm.

The Russian just stared at me, a mixture of emotions on his face that I couldn't decipher. It was then that I finally thought of something. I had nothing with me, not even my jacket with my knife. Then I finally remembered. I had a ring with a small blade hidden inside, so I made the effort to remove the blade from the ring, and when I did, I finally plunged it into the Russian's forearm in a spot I knew would make his fingers move involuntarily and force him to let go.

I thought it’s because she can’t look at him like this, but it’s something else entirely. Carden struggles to move as he barely comes to a lopsided sit, his hand slides out and the tips of his fingers graze my knee, a shiny silver blade hidden beneath his flat palm. I look him dead in the eye as I slide the small weapon up my sleeve the moment Brit screams at me.